


Woven Family

by aminiatureworld



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: I still haven't read the books in months, M/M, platonic by request, requested on tumblr, so far keeping to schedule!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26785561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld
Summary: While Legolas rests after being wounded Aragorn watches over him. Braiding hair and pondering relationships ensues.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Woven Family

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on Tumblr, I hope you all like it, I can't believe how many people read my last LotR fanfic (thanks in endnote)! Getting requests makes me so happy.
> 
> I've got nothing really important to say otherwise, except I think this is the shortest fic so far I've posted. I hope you enjoy!

Aragorn was born for many things, so everyone kept telling him at least, but waiting wasn’t one such thing. Whether it’d been for food, information, or even the simplest thing as waiting for the sun to rise on an autumn day, Aragorn found waiting wasn’t in his nature. Thus it should’ve been no surprise to either him, or the rest of the Fellowship, when he found himself sitting in the sickroom, his legs bouncing with unspent energy.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be in this predicament. He didn’t even want to be in Imlandris, commonly known as Rivendell, wanted to be out on the road. But Legolas had taken an arrow in the leg, and the shaft had broken off, requiring the crooked stone arrowhead to be dug out by hand, a dangerous, nearly always fatal procedure, unless done by the kind of specialists and magic wielders as existed in the land of the elves. The surgery had gone smoothly enough, and the elf was most definitely on the mend, out of danger to the great relief of Aragorn and the other members of the Fellowship. However rest was still needed and thus Aragorn found himself sitting, weeks having already drifted past during the elf’s convalescence, wondering why Legolas took so stupidly long to heal. Not that Aragorn seriously considered dragging him out of bed early or leaving him. Legolas was a friend, more than that, a companion, one of the Fellowship, and Aragorn would have no one left behind or put into danger because of his own smothered impatience.

Glancing over at the elf Aragorn pick up a strand of his hair. He liked the long hair of the elves, would’ve grown his own brown locks down his back if it were practical, or even possible, as Aragorn didn’t seem to have to cut his hair to keep it at length, it stayed as it was, sedate and a bit drab. Splitting Legolas’s hair into strands Aragorn was a bit too lost in his thoughts to notice the familiar pattern of crossing hair over hair. Braiding was an old practice for Aragorn, though he wasn’t quite sure where he’d picked it up. Maybe from Arwen. Either way, it was a sort of habit he’d grown into, and now he found himself back at it, braiding Legolas’s hair in all sorts of ways.

How well Aragorn knew Legolas now. How long ago it seemed since he’d run into that young elf. There’d always been a bond of brotherhood between the two, even right at the beginning, and Aragorn now could scarcely imagine a time when he didn’t have the elf to talk to, to trade secrets, wishes, and burdens with. The grateful feeling of relief he’d felt at the news that his brother in all but blood was going to be alright was overwhelming, and had spent him spiraling in thoughts as to how much he really loved Legolas, and how Aragorn had found family in the most unexpected of places.

“I assume my leg hasn’t turned green.” The semi sarcastic voice drew Aragorn out of his ponderings, and he looked at Legolas, who sleepily blinked his eyes. “I’d sit up and check, but I don’t want to ruin the work of art you’re turning my hair into right now.” Aragorn chuckled at this, knowing full well that Legolas didn’t really care one way or another what his hair was turning into.

“You leg has indeed failed to turn green, I’m sorry to tell you but you’re still stuck on this quest with us.”

“Just as well, I couldn’t imagine the frightful looks I’d get from the other elves if I was laid off, I bet even the trees would bow their heads in shame.”

“Never about you, I promise that.” Aragorn replied, smiling, happy that he was bantering once more with Legolas. Surely that meant the elf felt much better, for Legolas only bantered in his good moods, otherwise contenting himself with cryptic musings about nature, musings he’d once admitted to Aragorn he made more incomprehensible to annoy Boromir. “I don’t think anyone could be ashamed or doubt your determination after you nearly killed yourself chasing after an orc like that, you knew it was a trap and the band was going to turn around the minute you were separated.” His expression grew more serious. “Bravado is all well and good elf, but I’d not have you die, especially not from such a foolish act.”

“Perhaps it was a bit reckless,” Legolas admitted, not looking the least bit contrite, “but I honestly thought I could handle it, you’ve seen me take on much more than orcs after all, you know that I’m capable.”

“Not when you’re being reckless, it clouds your judgement, I know those tricks of yours take great skills and concentration.” Aragorn shook his head. “I’m not about to forbid you anything, you’re older than I am, know the risks, but I’m only going to remind you that you’re not alone, and that many would mourn your passing… I first among them.” He admitted after a pause.

“That’s a beautiful braid you’ve made.” Legolas smiled, before taking Aragorn’s hand in his, causing the braid to unwind a bit without the hair being fastened or tied up. “I promise I won’t forget my family, for the Valar have brought us together of that I am sure. But trust my judgement more, after all like you said I am older than you. I’ll not rush into danger like that again since it worries you so much, but you cannot stop my combat antics forever, and you know that. So trust in me, and in destiny, the gods, and in Fate. All will be well. We’ll succeed in our quest, and I’ll not be leaving anytime soon.”

“Thank you.” Aragorn smiled, and Legolas returned the gesture in a mirrored grin.

“Now, since it’s going to be a while, why don’t you get some ribbons and ties and finally show me how the braids you make out of rope translate to real hair. And don’t you dare mess up.” Aragorn laughed and got up to search for such ties, his heart filled with relief and love, grateful to the entire universe and everything in it that this family he found wasn’t going to shrink.

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to the 302 people who read my last LotR fanfic, as well as the 23 people who gave it kudos and the one person who commented. You light up my day!


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